


Dad SMP

by inkandapurplequill



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Babysitting, Canon Divergent, Domestic Fluff, Fatherhood, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Michael - Freeform, Michael the Piglin, Occasional angst, Oneshots book, Other, Parenthood, People are actually good parents for once, Phil's A+ Parenting, Tags will probably be edited, Uncleinnit, platonic marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-20 16:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30007422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandapurplequill/pseuds/inkandapurplequill
Summary: A collection of oneshots about the fathers, grandfathers, and uncles of the Dream SMP. Also featuring babysitting escapades and family fluff.I take requests! If you'd like to see a particular story, just comment it!
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Clay | Dream, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Foolish Gamers, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Foolish Gamers & Foolish Jr, Phil Watson & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Ranboo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Ranboo & Michael, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 23
Kudos: 195





	1. Hello!

Hello! I'm Ink

Welcome to my new book about the fathers, grandfathers, and uncles of the Dream SMP!

This will be mostly fluff with some hurt, comfort, and angst. Canon will depend on each individual chapter, but I'll always provide an explanation beforehand.

Updates will be when I've written a new chapter, so not regularly. I'm still working on my main fic, Return of an Empire.

I'm taking requests! I read all comments, so if you want me to write something just comment on any chapter. Obviously, there is a line I will not cross and anything inappropriate will be deleted. 

All chapters are based on the characters, not the people. If any of them say they're uncomfortable with anything I've written, that chapter will be edited or deleted. I am striving to be as respectful as possible. Trigger warnings will be added as necessary, though there shouldn't be many. The only general rule is that you should expect swearing in almost every chapter.

With all that said, welcome to the Dad SMP!


	2. New Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo and Tubbo bring Michael home for the first time. Turns out taking care of a toddler is harder than they thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Just swearing
> 
> BACKGROUND:  
> Ranboo and Tubbo live in the house in Snowchester (not the mansion). Michael is roughly 2/3.  
> Everyone is on good terms. Nobody's fighting.
> 
> I blame any inaccuracies on Michael being a piglin.

“Welcome home, Michael!”

The toddler in Tubbo’s arms squirmed and Tubbo set him down gently. Michael was young, but he knew how to walk and he was quicker than the other two expected. He raced around the nursery, getting into every nook and cranny.

Ranboo ducked under a rafter and knelt down next to his son. The trip back from the Nether had been tough, but now they had Michael and it was all worth it. The piglin toddler explored the nursery, excitedly babbling. He didn’t know how to speak English yet, but they were hoping to teach him soon. Maybe Techno could help. 

The toddler clambered up to the windowsill and Tubbo ran over to fetch him. “Careful, Michael!” he scolded gently. He hoisted his son into his arms and walked back over to Ranboo. “What do you think?” Tubbo asked him.

Ranboo glanced around the nursery. They had spent all of last week building the room and decorating it. The yellow and white plush rug lay in the middle of the floor, and it complemented the yellow toddler bed in the corner. A few toys lay scattered about. A wooden rocking chair sat in the corner, ready for use. “I think it’s perfect.” He pulled Michael into his own arms and gave him a kiss. “I think our son is also perfect.”

Tubbo smiled. “I think so too.” He couldn’t suppress the feelings of glee. Finally, their son was home.  _ Their son. _ He and Ranboo had a son! “We actually have a son,” he said aloud.

Ranboo chuckled. “I know.”

“We have a son,” he repeated. “Oh my god we have a son. Ranboo, we have a fucking son.”

The enderman hybrid quickly covered Michael’s ears. “Don’t swear in front of the child!”

Tubbo sat down. “W-We, oh my god…” His blue eyes were wide. 

“You alright there, Tubbo?”

He stared back at his platonic husband. “Couldn’t be better,” he said with a grin. 

It had only been an hour when Michael started crying. Tubbo and Michael were lying on the floor playing with wooden blocks, when the toddler started wailing out of nowhere.

Ranboo poked his head out of the trapdoor. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Tubbo called back. “He just started crying!”

Ranboo climbed up the ladder with a concerned look on his face. “Well, there are only a few things that could be the problem. He’s bored, tired, hungry, or needs to be changed. He could be bored, but it probably isn’t the case since you were playing with him. I doubt he’s tired, and it doesn’t smell so he’s most likely hungry.”

Tubbo nodded. “Do you know where the diaper bag is?”

“I’ve got it.” A minute later, Ranboo was holding a jar of baby food. He dipped a spoon in and held it towards Michael’s mouth. “Mmmm, delicious chicken and potatoes!” he tried. The brown sludge didn’t look appetizing at all. Ranboo tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. 

Michael refused to open his mouth. His grumpy face was adorable, Ranboo had to admit, but he needed to eat. 

“Here comes the flying strider!” Ranboo tried again. “Open wide!” The piglin didn’t budge, only staring at his dad with big brown eyes. 

Tubbo had a parenting book in his hands and was flicking through it. “Morning sickness… kicking… labor… no, definitely not the right section,” he muttered. “Here we go! Feeding time. Ok, so the book says that the parent should eat or pretend to eat the food in order for the child to give it a chance. They’re likely to copy what their parent does.” Tubbo grinned at Ranboo. “Open up, big man.”

The enderman groaned. “Are we sure that the book is right? What if it’s some elaborate scheme to ruin kids?” 

“Just eat it, Ranboo.”

“Fine.” He managed to force himself to swallow a spoonful. It was slimy and tasted absolutely nothing like chicken and mashed potatoes. He smiled weakly. “Delicious,” he choked out.

Michael giggled and clapped his little hooved hands. He opened his mouth, showing off little white tusks that were just beginning to grow. Ranboo managed to feed him and he ate it without complaint. 

Finally, they had done something right. 

“Ranboo, I think our child has shit himself.”

A terrible stink filled the nursery. Tubbo was holding Michael an arm’s length away from him. His face was screwed up into a look of disgust. Michael only blinked innocent brown eyes at him. 

“I dealt with food, you deal with his diaper,” Ranboo called back. He was downstairs, sorting through Michael’s things. 

Tubbo looked back at his son. This would be interesting.

A few minutes and many tries later, Tubbo chucked a horrible smelling diaper into the bin. “There! All clean,” he cooed at the toddler, who babbled back at him. He opened the trapdoor and shouted down to his husband. “Can you watch Michael for a few minutes? I need to wash my hands.”

“Sure! I’ll get him ready for bed, too.”

“Ooh, use the bee onesie!” They had received two onesies as a gift from Captain Puffy. One was black and yellow striped with a bee embroidered on the front, and the other was half black and half white. 

Ranboo dressed Michael in his pajamas and tucked him under the yellow comforter. Planting a small kiss on his son’s forehead, he turned the light off and went back down the trapdoor. 

“We’re such great parents,” Tubbo said. “Look at him, he’s already in bed and we’re free for the rest of the night. This is easy!”

Tubbo blearily rubbed at his eyes. It was what, midnight? Michael had not stopped crying for hours. They had gotten a half hour to relax before they were thrown into the grind again. Their son had woken up, started wailing, and then it never, ever stopped. Tubbo and Ranboo were  _ exhausted. _

“We’ve tried everything!” Ranboo fretted. “I tried feeding him, he didn’t need changing, I tried to play with him but he just looked at me and cried!” He was pacing back and forth anxiously, ender particles coming off him. He was so worked up that he let out a few warbles.

Tubbo stared at him silently. His vision faded in and out. All he wanted was to  _ sleep. _ Piercing shrieks filled every room of the house. There was no escape, only torture. Every cry hurt his heart as well as his ears. What were they doing wrong? He thought they could be good parents!

“Do you think when we get the new house, it’ll be big enough that we can go far enough away that we won’t be able to hear him?” Tubbo drowsily wondered.

“Tubbo!” Ranboo squawked. “We need to do something!” He grabbed the parenting book and rapidly skimmed it. “This tells us absolutely nothing!” He slammed the book shut.

Tubbo flinched awake. “Huh? What?” He yawned, wincing as Michael once more echoed through the walls. 

“We need to do  _ something, _ ” Ranboo murmured. “He’s obviously upset about something, and I don’t want to keep him unhappy.”

In Tubbo’s exhaustion, a great idea came to him. “I’m calling Phil.”

“What?”

Tubbo was already on the phone. 

Phil picked up on the third ring, his voice heavy with sleep. “Yeah mate?”

“Uhh… so, Phil, you know how Ranboo and I adopted a toddler?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, we brought him home for the first time today.”

“Let me guess, he’s crying and he won’t stop.”

“...yes.”

“Be right there.”

A few minutes later, Ranboo opened the door to a disheveled Philza Minecraft. “What’s the situation?” he asked.

Ranboo explained, “We’ve tried everything. He’s not hungry, he’s not bored, his diaper doesn’t need to be changed. Tubbo’s in the nursery now, trying to help, but we don’t know what to  _ do, _ Phil!”

Phil pushed past him. “Up the ladder?” he asked.  
“Yes, but Phil, what are you-”

He just hummed and walked into the nursery knowingly. 

Tubbo was sitting in the rocking chair with bags under his eyes. Michael was sitting up in bed, screaming his zombified lungs out. When Phil walked in, Tubbo's shoulders slumped in relief. “You’re here. Please help.”

Phil approached the bed and picked Michael up. “Hey little guy. It’s your kind-of-Grandpa Phil,” he whispered reassuringly and the piglin calmed down. He beckoned to Tubbo and Ranboo, who obediently stumbled over. Phil plopped Michael into their arms, and the toddler stopped crying immediately. 

The husbands stared at him in shock. Phil laughed. “Piglins are social creatures, rarely without another of their kind by their side. Poor Michael woke up alone and got scared,” he explained. “Techno was the same way. So was Tommy, surprisingly,” he added, “though he was human.”

“Phil, you’re a lifesaver,” Ranboo gushed. Michael was now fast asleep in their arms.

The man smiled. “Sometimes all a kid needs is his father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm Ink and this is my new work. I just got inspired one day and wanted to make this.  
> If you know my other work, don't worry, ROAE isn't ending anytime soon and I'll still try to keep on track with it. This is just a side project without a consistent schedule. 
> 
> Any requests? I read all comments, so just pop one below.


	3. Clingy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Piglins are social creatures, rarely without another of their kind by their side... Techno was the same way. So was Tommy, surprisingly."
> 
> Phil finds an abandoned piglin in the Nether and takes him home. A year later, he knows exactly how to deal with a clingy child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request from IkeaFries who wanted Tommy and Techno content from Phil's comment in the last chapter!
> 
> Canon background: In the past, before the Dream SMP. Wilbur and Techno are about 6, later they're 8 and Tommy's an infant.
> 
> TW: Mentioned death (it's brief don't worry)

The heat of the Nether was suffocating. Phil wondered if these enderpearls were worth it. There were no piglins in sight, much less a bastion. At least it gave him the opportunity to mine Nether gold. 

He heard a snort to his left and his heart leapt. Finally! All he’d found so far were zombified piglins, the undead cousin to the Nether traders. Now he could trade the stacks of gold bars he’d collected. 

When he rounded the netherrack bluff, his heart sank again. It was a piglin, but a baby one. Useless for his current venture. Still, a good sign. Where there was one piglin, there were always more. Especially if it was a young one. 

The piglin spotted him and grunted aggressively. Except, due to its size, it came out more as a squeak and Phil had to hold back a chuckle. He flashed his gold bracelets and the piglin calmed down. 

“Hey mate,” he said softly, keeping a safe distance away. “Where’s your family?” He didn’t know if it understood English, but maybe. A few piglin clans had picked it up from trading with humans. He knelt down. “Are you all alone?”

The piglin snorted pitifully. “Yeah,” it said. “Gas.”

“Gas?” Phil looked over to see the remnants of a fireball explosion. His eyebrows raised as he realized the little piglin meant “Ghast”. “Oh…”

The piglin nodded. “Bad gas. No-Nobody now.”

A surge of protective instincts overcame Phil. Piglins were always in a pack. One left alone, especially a kid, was never good.  _ I can’t just leave him here.  _ He gently picked the kid up. “You got a name, mate?”

“Techno.”

“Well, Techno, how about I take you back to my base? I’ve got food there, and I can take care of you.”

Techno nodded. “Okay.”

Phil hoisted him into his arms. “C’mon.” He started on the journey back to his temporary shack.  _ What will Wilbur think?  _ His son was fine at home with his mum. Phil had gone on a trip for resources, promising to be back within a week. Now he was returning with a baby piglin. Speaking of that… “How old are you?”

“4.” So almost 6 in human years, pretty much Wil’s age. Perfect. 

A tug on Phil’s hair stopped him in his tracks. He looked over to see Techno with one hooved hand grasped around his hair. “Gold,” Techno muttered, and Phil’s heart melted.

“Let’s get you home,” he said. 

Phil set Techno on a piles of blankets by the fireplace before bidding him goodnight and going outside. The area was well-lit and encircled by a fence; he didn’t have to worry about mobs and could chop wood in peace. 

He had gathered half of a stack of spruce logs when a piercing wail came from the shack. Dropping the wood, he ran to the shack. He slammed the door open, wings flared wide, to see a crying Techno sitting on the floor. 

Poor piglin was bawling his eyes out. When he saw Phil though, he brightened immediately. “You came back!”

His wings slumped in relief as he realized Techno was only lonely. Of course he was, he was a piglin, used to being with his kind all the time. Hell, his family had just been killed and now he was alone again! Of course he was going to be upset!  _ Stupid idiot, _ he chastised himself. He probably thought he was abandoned again. “Yeah mate, I’m here, don’t worry.” He knelt down next to Techno and pulled him into a hug, wings wrapped tight around the two. “I’m not gonna leave you.” He could use an axe with one hand, and it was safe for Techno to walk around. The kid wasn’t stupid; he would be fine if he didn’t go too far. 

“Want to come with me this time?” he asked. Techno nodded, taking his hand. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Phil promised.

It was late at night, at the Minecraft household. Phil had tucked everyone into bed, including the recent addition to the family: Tommy. The first thing Techno had said after seeing Tommy was, “Gold”. Techno never truly grew out of his piglin instincts, and Tommy’s blond hair was just like Phil’s. The memory made Phil chuckle to himself as he prepared a cup of tea. He dropped another log in the fireplace. Probably not necessary, as the world had already transitioned to spring. Still, it got cold around these parts, and Techno liked the house warm. Another sign of his piglin heritage. 

A scream split the night, and Phil choked on his tea. He flew up the stairs, not bothering to walk. His youngest continued to scream. Part of Phil was impressed by the sheer volume and breath support that baby had. The other part of him had a headache. 

He pushed open the door gently. Tommy was standing up in his crib, sobbing and shrieking. Phil walked over and picked him up gently. He quieted immediately, getting comfortable in Phil’s arms. 

“You just needed me, didn’t you?” Phil said softly. He was reminded of the night he found Techno, only two years ago. “Your older brother was the same way. Weirdly enough, you’re human and he’s not,” he said, half to himself. He sat down in the carved rocking chair and moved gently back and forth. “Don’t worry, Dadza’s got you.” Tommy had calmed down substantially now, and Phil breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve got you, it’s alright.”

A knock at the door made him look up. It creaked open, revealing the silhouettes of Wilbur and Techno. “Yeah?” he called.

Wilbur pushed into the room. “Is he okay?” he asked. Phil smiled at the level of concern in his son’s voice. 

“Yeah, Wil, he’s alright. Just got lonely.”

“Oh. Well, we’re here now, so now he won’t be lonely!”

Phil grinned. “That’s right.”

“Can I look at him?” Techno asked. 

He nodded. “Just be gentle.”

“He looks like a gremlin,” Wilbur commented.

“Wil! Be nice to your little brother.” Tommy was sucking on his thumb, but now he removed his hand from his mouth and blew a raspberry at Wilbur. Phil laughed at Wilbur’s offended expression. 

“Ok, time for bed, all of you. It’s like half past midnight!”

“We were up anyways.”

Phil’s eyes widened. “We can talk about that tomorrow, but we all need to go to sleep. Good night, boys.”

“Good night,” they chorused. 

He set Tommy, now sleeping, back down in his crib. The boy’s sleeping face was peaceful. 

Phil had a great family, didn’t he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first request! I should add that most requests probably won't be done within a day or two, especially if I have more than one to do or if I was in the middle of writing a chapter. Requests probably won't be as long as a normal chapter, simply because I have more inspiration to write for ideas that I come up with myself.


	4. Good Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy gets alone with Michael in Snowchester, and he bonds with his best friend's kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request from "request :)". Hope you like it!
> 
> Canon Background: A few weeks after Tommy's out of the prison, Michael is about 6. 
> 
> TW: Panic attack, mentions of what Dream did to Tommy.  
> I seriously hope I wrote the panic attack right, I don't want to mess it up.

Surprisingly, Tommy wasn’t that impressed with the mansion. 

“My hotel’s better.”

Tubbo laughed. “Sure, big man, sure.” He pushed open the spruce doors, revealing the tall foyer and grand staircase. “What do you think?”

Ok,  _ now _ Tommy was kinda impressed, but he couldn’t show it. “It’s alright, I guess.”

His best friend rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable. C’mon, I’ll bring you to meet Michael. I’ve told him about you, you know. He’s excited to meet his ‘Uncle Tommy’.”

“Uncle Tommy?” he perked up.  _ Awwww. _

Tubbo nodded. “Yep. You think I would let my son grow up without knowing my best friend? Michael doesn’t even know you and he’s already excited.”

“Well don’t give the kid false hopes, Tubbo.”

“They’re not false, Tommy. You’re a good friend.” Tubbo looked at him kindly. Tommy had been in a fragile state of mind ever since he was revived. He was self-deprecating and paranoid. He was doing better after a few therapy sessions with Puffy, though, and Tubbo hoped that introducing him to Michael would show him that Tubbo still cared about Tommy and wanted him to be in his life. He certainly didn’t replace Tommy, but he understood his best friend’s feelings. 

At last, they stood before a door. Tubbo knocked, then walked in. A baby zombie piglin, dressed in overalls and a green shirt, glanced up. “Papa!” he cried, running over to Tubbo. Tubbo picked him up, beaming. “Hey Michael!”

Michael snorted happily. Big brown eyes looked at Tommy. “Is this Uncle Tommy?” he gasped. 

Tubbo nodded. “Yep! Can you say hi? He’s a little shy, so you need to be careful with him.”

His son grinned. “I can be nice to Uncle Tommy!”

Tubbo set Michael down on the ground. “Why don’t you show Uncle Tommy your chicken?” He whispered to Tommy, “He’s been doing really well with learning English. Turns out it’s not too different from Enderspeak, and Ranboo has convinced Techno to teach him Piglin without explaining the real reason why. So it might be a bit difficult at times, but he’s really perceptive. Besides, I’ll be here to help you out.”

Michael bounded over with a stuffed chicken in his hooves. “This my chicken!” he said proudly. 

“Nice chicken,” Tommy said stiffly. Tubbo elbowed him. He flinched, and in a weak voice, said, “Please don’t.”

Tubbo’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, Tommy, I forgot.”

“Yeah, well,” Tommy tried to laugh it off. “Just don’t do it next time, m’kay?”

“Okay…” Tubbo didn’t seem convinced. His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. His blue eyes widened. “I need to go.” Tubbo sprinted out of the room.

“What?” Tommy asked. 

“No time!” he called.

Michael and Tommy stared at each other. “So…” Tommy said. “Talk to any g-wait, no, you’re a child. Ignore that. So, Michael, what do you like to do?”

“I like to draw! I drew a picture of Dad and Papa yesterday.”

“That’s nice.” Tommy pointed a thumb towards the door. “I’m gonna go now.”

Michael looked at him with pleading brown eyes. “Don’t go,” he begged. He held out a red crayon in one hooved hand. “Stay?”

Somehow, despite being adopted, he still had Tubbo’s puppy dog eyes.  _ If I don’t watch him, he might get hurt. And then Tubbo will be sad, and that’s not good.  _ He sighed. “Fine.” He sat down on the plush yellow and white rug. “What are you drawing now?”

“Out window!” He held up the drawing. Tommy had to admit, the kid was good. Scribbled on the page was clearly a sun, some sand, a few trees, and a half-colored in sea. Michael looked down. “It not done.” He moved to lay on his stomach, and he kicked his little legs in the air. He turned to look at Tommy, and then passed him a piece of paper and a purple crayon. “You draw?”

Tommy nodded, smiling. “I can draw.” He began carefully sketching a flower, an allium. A half-hour later, he had a decent drawing and Michael had finished his landscape. “Good drawing, Michael,” Tommy praised him. “You’ll be a great artist someday.”

Michael beamed. “Thanks, Uncle Tommy! Your drawing is good!”

Tommy ruffled his “nephew’s” hair. “Thanks, big man. What do you say we get some snacks? Do you know where the kitchen is?”

The piglin nodded, grabbing Tommy’s hand and pulling him downstairs. They entered a very well-decorated kitchen, and Tommy started rifling through the cabinets. He found a jar of cookies, and pulled it down from the shelf. He held a finger to his lips conspiratorially. “Don’t tell your papa,” he whispered, and Michael giggled. Tommy was about to set the jar down when it slipped out of his hands and fell to the floor. It splintered into pieces with a loud crash. 

Tommy’s heart raced. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the ceramic shards. Dream’s voice echoed in his head. “Why don’t you go and see him then?” Dripping obsidian walls. Burning lava. Raw potatoes. Dream’s fists, hitting again and  _ again and not stopping.  _ Pure, unadulterated  _ pain. _

“Stop, stop, stop!” Tommy whimpered. His back hit the lower cabinets, and he gasped. A roaring filled his ears and tears leaked from his eyes. “Please, Dream,  _ stop!” _

“Uncle Tommy?”

Tommy looked up through blurry tears. Michael had a small hand on his knee. His head was tilted, brown eyes filled with concern. “You okay?” a small voice asked. 

Tommy didn’t even notice his hands were shaking, but the adrenaline and fear faded as the world came back into focus. He nodded slowly. “I’m okay now. Thanks, Michael.” He stood up and carefully moved Michael away from the fragments. “What do you say I sweep this up and then we make some cookies? I think those ones are all dirty.”

Michael grinned. “Baking! Yay!”  


Tubbo knocked on the playroom door. Helping Ranboo out of his enderwalk state had been difficult, but he and Phil had managed it. “Tommy? Michael?” he called. The room was empty. He smelled sugar and chocolate, and he ran downstairs. As he walked into the kitchen, Tommy pulled a tray of cookies out of the oven. He and Michael were absolutely covered in flour, but they both seemed to be having a great time.

“Tubbo! Perfect timing,” Tommy said. “The cookies just got done.” He set the tray on the counter and walked over to the sink. “You’ve got a good kid,” he whispered to Tubbo. 

Michael ran over to Tubbo, hugging his leg. “Papa!”

“Hey Michael! Did you have fun with Uncle Tommy?”

The piglin nodded. “He got scared, but I helped!”

Tubbo glanced at Tommy, who gave him a small nod. He turned back to Michael. “Good job, Michael!”

“We had fun, didn’t we, Michael?”

“Yeah!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UNCLEINNIT POG
> 
> Unfortunately, you might not get any more chapters for a few days. I have another non-request chapter I wrote a while ago that I'll post tomorrow, but this week is very, very busy for me. Sorry!


	5. I Told Him I Was Pregnant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo makes a reference to something Ranboo wasn't there for, and a misunderstanding occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Tubbo and Ranboo's "wait who's pregnant" conversation. 
> 
> Canon background: After Tommy's out of prison and the mansion has just been completed
> 
> TW: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy

“Ohhhhh Ranboo!” 

The enderman poked his head out from the doorway. “Yeah, Tubbo?”

“Can you watch Michael? I need to go do something.” Tubbo was bouncing on his heels excitedly. 

Ranboo tilted his head. “Something’s got you worked up.”

His husband shrugged. “I’m pregnant,” he said nonchalantly. 

Ranboo’s mouth fell open in shock. Tubbo waved goodbye and hopped out the door, as if he hadn’t just revealed something earth-shattering to Ranboo.

“How the fuck?” he said aloud. _This doesn’t make sense. Our marriage is strictly platonic and besides, Tubbo is biologically male. He_ can’t _be._

The other side of him argued back. _Fundy’s mother is a salmon. Foolish is a god. Dream can bring people back to life. An egg made people murderous. Weirder things have happened on this server._

“What do I do?” he groaned, sitting down. A small _tap tap_ on his leg made him open his eyes. Michael stared up at him innocently. Ranboo sighed and hoisted the piglin onto his shoulders. One child was hard enough, no matter how cute Michael was. How would they manage another?

He tried to reason with himself. Maybe this was a prank! It didn’t make sense, so maybe it wasn’t real! No need to do anything rash; he’ll wait until Tubbo gets home. Still, Tubbo was his husband, albeit platonic. What if he was telling the truth?

Ranboo took a deep breath in and out and focused on the child he knew he had. He’ll wait for Tubbo to get home and then he can ask him. 

It still nagged at his mind for the rest of the day. 

Tubbo looked up from the pile of dirt he was digging out. His excuse for Ranboo sprang to mind, and he giggled to himself. He hoped Ranboo thought his little joke was funny. Of course he wasn’t pregnant, that was ridiculous. 

What he was actually doing was a surprise for Ranboo. He and Tommy were building a house in the middle of a flower field. Tubbo, Ranboo, and Michael were going to go on a vacation together for a week. They certainly needed the break with all of the drama of the server. Plus, there were bees for Tubbo, the sunset was gorgeous, and there was a nice open field for Michael to play in. It was perfect.

Tommy wiped sweat off his brow and turned to look at his friend. “Oh yeah, I meant to ask, what excuse did you give Ranboo? I can’t imagine that sneaking off randomly would go unnoticed.”

“Do you want me to be completely transparent with you?”

“Yes?”

“I told him I was pregnant.”

Tommy stared at him, dumbfounded. “...congratulations? But I thought you had a platonic rela-OW! Tubbo!”

Tubbo, who had punched him, dusted off his hands. “I’m not pregnant, you idiot!”

“Does Ranboo know that?”

“Of course he does,” he scoffed. “I was making a reference to back when I was a spy for Schlatt and we were in Pogtopia.”

Tommy facepalmed. “Tubbo, my best friend, you are absolutely fucking stupid. Ranboo wasn’t here during Pogtopia! You literally have a kid together already! Of course he’s going to think you’re not joking!”

Tubbo stared down at the ground. “Oh, oh shit.” He looked back up at Tommy. “I need to tell Ranboo.”

“Course you do!”

“C’mon!” Tubbo said. Tommy yelped as Tubbo yanked him along. 

They arrived back at the mansion, huffing and out of breath. Foolish, who was adding details to the exterior, nearly fell off his scaffolding. “Woah! Hey Tubbo and Tommy!”

“Where’s Ranboo?” Tubbo demanded.

The totem shrugged. “Inside, probably. Why?”

“I told him I was pregnant.”

“Oh! Are you expecting?”

“No, that’s the problem!” Tubbo cried. “Where is he?”

“Tubbo, calm down,” Tommy said. “Like Foolish said, he’s probably just inside.”

The brunet sighed. “I’m calm, I’m calm.” He kicked open the spruce doors. “RANBOO, MY BELOVED!” he yelled. Even Tommy winced. 

The enderman scrambled down the stairs. “Tubbo! I just put Michael down for a nap.” They stared at each other.

“Are you-”

“I’m not-”

“-pregnant,” they finished. The husbands blinked, then started laughing in relief. 

“Thank god! I didn’t want another kid,” Ranboo said, rubbing a hand along the back of his head.

“Me neither,” Tubbo chuckled. “Michael is enough.” He tilted his head at Ranboo. “Why didn’t you think I was joking?”

“A salmon and a human made a fox. Stranger things have happened on this godforsaken server. You being pregnant wouldn’t be _too_ unbelievable.”

“Fair enough.”

“Glad that’s sorted,” Tommy grumbled. “Can we go back to what we were doing now?”

Tubbo nodded. “I’m glad I have such a rational husband. You didn’t tell anyone, right?”

Ranboo shook his head. “No, I wasn’t completely sure if you were telling the truth myself.” He crossed his arms. “So what were you and Tommy actually doing?”

His platonic husband blanked, searching for an appropriate excuse. “Launching nukes?” he tried.

“You were WHAT?”

“Jesus Christ, Tubbo, let me handle the excuses next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 1000 hits already! Thanks everyone :)
> 
> Unfortunately, this is the last chapter for the week. I've got a lot on my plate, so to speak.  
> Guest, I'm especially sorry to you because your request will have to wait. I promise I'll get it done as soon as I can.


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